


Questions Of Faith

by FiresofAnarchy



Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: Betrayal, Complicated Relationships, Demonic Possession, Grief/Mourning, Hearing Voices, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25175623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiresofAnarchy/pseuds/FiresofAnarchy
Summary: A collection of one shots featuring various characters from Warrior Nun.
Relationships: Shotgun Mary & Father Vincent, Shotgun Mary & Sister Lilith, Shotgun Mary/Shannon Masters, Shotgun Mary/Sister Lilith
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	1. The Father I Thought I Knew

**Author's Note:**

> So hey. Wow, it's been almost two months since I posted anything on here. Honestly this pandemic has had me in such a rut. I haven't played any video games, besides TOR on my computer, since March. I have been reading at a good pace so at least there's that. But yeah, needless to say I haven't been watching any TV either. Even stuff like The 100 and The Magicians that I actually was watching I haven't bothered to check out the final seasons. But I was scoping out Netflix for the first time in forever, and first off they removed The Pinkertons which is just really unfortunate since that show's underappreciated enough as it is, but besides that I saw this show and thought it looked cool. So I binged it in two days and let me just say that while it's not perfect this show's really good and I don't even think they've really gotten into the main plot yet. So I said in my live tweet of the first episode that Father Vincent, on his first appearance, was giving me Nathan from Beyond Two Souls vibes. And lo and behold he went full Nathan at the end. So anyways, if you've read some of my other fics before you know I'm a sucker for complicated family relationships and I can't have been the only one reading the father-daughter subtext into Vincent's relationship with Mary. So here's me to work out all mine, and Mary's, feelings about that in the wake of what was revealed in the last episode with a little assist from Lilith. I hope you like it. I was listening to Yellow Ledbetter by Pearl Jam while writing this.

Punch.

The bag of potatoes that she hung up as a makeshift punching bag warped considerably around the force of Mary’s fist. It wasn’t the best substitute, but it sure beat punching the wall which had been her initial plan. No, best not to fuck up her hands too bad when they had no idea where their enemies were or what they were planning. No, they could burst through the front door of their makeshift hideout right now with 100 men and kill them all. Mary would relish the chance to spill a little blood of her own, especially if that blood happened to be Adriel or Vincent’s. Hell, even a chance to plunge a dagger into Duretti’s cold heart would still do, he wasn’t the one that killed Shannon, but he was still the power-hungry egotist that destroyed the Order. Assholes, the Church sure managed to produce a lot of them, and at a certain point she had just learned to take it as an occupational hazard. But Vincent had been different, had always been different. Except he wasn’t, and that betrayal cut her to her core in a way she hadn’t thought was possible.

Punch.

What do you do when you find out that one of the two people you cared about most in the world, one of the two people you considered your family, killed the other person? What do you do when you find out that everything that person ever told you about who he was was a lie? What do you do when you find out the person you considered a father killed the love of your life? What do you do when you find out that person probably never really cared about you at all? Apparently for Mary, the answer to all those questions was punching things at least in the short term. It was after all a tried and true method of letting out her frustrations, even if Shannon had told her it was probably unhealthy, even if Vincent had tried to get her to read scriptures instead. That last memory just made her attack the bag even more viciously.

Punch. Punch. Punch.

“Don’t trust anyone”. Those had been Shannon’s last words to her. She had taken that advice and applied it as she thought necessary. Ava, Lilith, Duretti; she didn’t let herself trust any of them. But Vincent, he wasn’t just anyone, he was family. Family, she already lost one family on that night her mother shot her father and got locked away forever. As fucked up as that family had been, it had still been a family, and when Vincent plucked her out of the foster system and introduced her to the OCS she felt like she had finally found that again. It wasn’t a big family, a lot of the Sisters never saw her as one of them and the rest were a revolving door of recruits that made it impossible to get close to, but with Vincent and later Shannon it had been enough.

Despite her best efforts memories began flooding in at an increasing pace and her punches faded in intensity as tears formed in her eyes. So many times Vincent had been a source of comfort for her.

“It’ll take some getting used to, but this is your home now; I won’t let anything happen to you,” that one when she was new to the Order and still a grenade waiting for someone to pull the pin.

“Failure is one of life’s guarantees Mary and I think it would hardly be fair for me to expect you to be immune to it, there will always be another mission, but there’ll never be another you; now get that leg checked out,” that after her first failed mission.

“You know I could never see you as just a tool Mary, you’re far more than a means to an end for me,” that one to erase the self-doubt that had cropped up when the other Sisters had started telling her that her only worth was as a hired gun.

“I’ve seen how happy she makes you Mary, how happy you make each other, and I don’t know anyone who truly has a kind heart who could look at that and tell you that what you two have is wrong,” that when she was uncertain if he would approve of her relationship with Shannon.

The tears were flowing freely down her face now, the punches now barely an imitation of shadow boxing. Was any of that actually true?

“Why did it have to be you,” she asked quietly into the nothingness.

“Why did it have to be you,” she said louder. “You fucking bastard.”

“Why did you kill her,” she practically screamed.

With one final viscous punch the bag finally exploded in a flurry of falling potatoes.

“I’m sorry,” for a moment she thought it was Vincent in her head, but then she came to and realized it was Lilith’s voice.

“What,” she said, confused more than anything.

“I’m sorry you’re having to go through this,” Lilith elaborated. “It’s hard for all of us, but I know it’s especially hard for you.”

“Vincent’s mistakes aren’t your fault,” she said.

“No, but I played my part,” Lilith said. “I’m sorry for letting us drift apart, I’m sorry for not giving Shannon’s death the respect it deserved.”

“I was selfish,” she continued. “And I let my pride get in the way of the things that actually mattered.”

“You were afraid,” she said. “And I think you’ve more than paid your penance for that.”

“Remember,” she continued. “I see you.”

“You see me,” Lilith said nodding her head. “Well, I see you too Mary.”

“I see you,” Lilith repeated.

They just stood there holding each other’s gaze for the next several moments.

“He was like a father to me,” it felt weird to say it out loud like that. “So much of who I am today is because he decided to accept me when no one else would.”

“And he,” she stumbled over this part. “He was one of the only people I ever told how I truly felt about Shannon.”

“And he still killed her,” she was close to breaking down again. “And he still sent me chasing down lead after threadbare fucking lead knowing deep down he was the one responsible.”

“How could I have ever looked up to someone capable of that,” she was gritting her teeth at this point. “How could I have been so fucking stupid?”

“If I hadn’t seen and heard his conversation with Adriel myself I’d probably still be willing to walk into Hell for him,” it felt good to get it all outside her head.

“Hey,” suddenly Lilith was holding her in an embrace. “It’s not your fault either, what he did.”

“And your feelings about him, about the whole situation, are completely valid,” she continued. “All of them, no matter how complex and fucked up they may be.”

“But you aren’t stupid, you’re one of the smartest people I know,” her hands were moving up and down her back now. “He deceived us all, it’s not your fault.”

“Remember what else you told me down in that crypt,” Lilith asked.

“I’ve got you,” she answered.

“You’ve got me,” Lilith said. “Well I’ve got you too Mary.”

The tears came again, this time with her face pressed into Lilith’s shoulder. Lilith was the only one who could understand, really understand. The others, they were too new, they only knew her as the loner badass with two shotguns. But Lilith was different. Her whole world felt like the rug had just been pulled out from under it, but maybe, maybe she hadn’t lost everything. It felt good to be held by someone again.


	2. Hellspawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. I think it's safe to say at this point that these two have my heart. Paraphrasing myself from Twitter earlier, everyone loves Ava/Beatrice and don't get me wrong I love them too but I also love ships that have a little bit more "mess" to them and I'll be here for Mary/Lilith even if I'm the only one. So, I just had to get something more explicitly shippy of these two out there before I lost my writing drive hence the quick follow up chapter. So yeah, I just threw a bunch of stuff at the wall in this chapter and hoped it would stick. I hope you like it. I was listening to Coffee Talk by Broadside while writing this, a song that I didn't even know existed until yesterday but as soon as I heard it I knew it screamed Mary/Lilith.

“Lilith”, there was no mistaking Mary’s voice on the other side of her door.

“Lilith, don’t think I won’t kick this door down,” she knew she would.

Resigned to her fate she got up from the comfort of her bed and braced herself for the conversation she knew was about to happen. Turning the lock felt like admitting defeat, but she knew Mary wouldn’t go away. Mary would even have this conversation through the door if it came to it, where the others might hear, and that was certainly not an ideal outcome. Before she could even register what was going on Mary had already pushed herself inside and was relocking said door.

“If you wanted to have your way with me Sister Mary all you had to do was ask,” she tried the sly approach.

“None of that bullshit,” Mary wasn’t having it. “You tell me what happened in training this morning.”

She hesitated.

“The others are really freaked out you know,” she reached out to begin running her fingers through her hair. “You really gave them a show.”

“It wasn’t my intention I assure you,” she said around a shiver.

“So why don’t you tell me what happened,” Mary prodded again. “No judgements here, remember.”

“I know,” she conceded.

Where to even begin. It had started as just a normal day. Early morning training sessions had been a staple of their days at The Cradle and Beatrice had suggested a reinstitution of the practice now that their new hideout was reasonably secure. There was no reason to argue against it, maintaining strength and conditioning through routine training was necessary at the best of times and these were far from the best of times. A part of Lilith that was still the arrogant heir-apparent even felt disappointed that it hadn’t been her idea. So there they were training, she was paired up with Beatrice which suited her just fine, going through basic drills and sparring. And it had been going well at first, Beatrice was always a worthy opponent, and it had felt nice getting back into the groove of training, the camaraderie. Then the voices started.

“They won’t pull their punches when they find out what you really are,” just a whisper in the back of her mind.

It was enough of a distraction for Beatrice to get a clean hit on her left eye, that was definitely going to leave a bruise.

“You still think they’re your friends,” another voice louder than the first mocked. “Your very nature makes you their enemy.”

“No,” she said under her breath as Beatrice landed another clean shot.

“They’ll gut you like the monster you are,” still the second voice.

“That’s not true,” this time her response was loud enough to make Beatrice pause.

“Kill them first,” a third voice more erratic than the other two. “It’s the only way.”

“No,” this was loud enough to alert the rest of the room.

She felt herself slowly losing control of her own body as a cacophony of other voices joined in.

“You’re not strong enough to do what must be done,” the second voice again.

“Get out of my head,” she screamed to no effect.

She felt the claws extending, the bloodlust entering her consciousness. They were right. She wasn’t strong enough, not strong enough to stop them from killing her friends. She began advancing on Beatrice with a sinister purpose.

“Lilith,” Beatrice said defensively. “What’s going on.”

“I,” was all she could stutter out.

“Someone get Mary,” Beatrice shouted over her shoulder.

“Another one who will turn on you when she finds out what you really are,” the first voice was back. “She says she sees you but she only sees what she wants to see.”

“She cares,” she managed to say through gritted teeth.

“Right,” Beatrice said. “Mary cares about you, we all do.”

“She’ll never love you the way you love her,” the second voice twisted the knife further.

“No,” she went down to a knee.

“What kind of person starts a relationship with someone while they’re still grieving for their previous lover,” the first voice again. “She’ll realize that you’re still as selfish as you’ve always been soon enough.”

“She’ll be the first one to put a bullet in you no doubt,” the second voice.

“No,” at some point she had ended up on the floor. “Mary would never.”

The cacophony started up again.

“Kill her, kill them all,” the third voice.

“Stop hiding your nature from people who’ll never accept you anyways,” the first voice.

They were already regaining control, standing her back up. Beatrice would be the first target. She had to do something, so she mustered up all the strength she had and somehow managed to teleport herself into her room.

She was shaking by the end of her story and felt Mary pulling her back towards the bed. She allowed Mary to lay her down, not trusting herself at all following the recap of what happened. Mary quickly joined her, wrapping her arms tightly around her midsection. She was still shaking.

“Shh, shh,” Mary said comfortingly. “It’s going to be okay, I’ve got you.”

“You’ve got me,” she said barely a whisper.

“That’s right,” Mary confirmed. “And I’m not letting you go.”

Slowly her breathing evened out and she was able to trust herself enough to turn around in Mary’s grip so that they were facing each other.

“You didn’t tell me you were hearing voices,” Mary said plainly, no hint of accusation in her voice.

“It,” she stumbled. “It hasn’t been a problem since the crypt.”

“I’m scared Mary,” she admitted.

“I know,” their foreheads were resting against each other now.

“Claws, grey hair, this bloodlust they can turn on and off in a heartbeat,” she said. “If I hadn’t been able to regain control.”

She let the implication hang there.

“I really am a monster,” the voices had at least been right on that front.

“Give me your hand,” she readily did so.

“Show them to me,” Mary said it like she was discussing the weather.

She hesitated for a moment, but then extended the claws she knew could cut through a person’s neck easily.

“These are yours, they’re a part of you,” she said. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of them.”

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of any of it,” she continued. “Claws, grey hair, even bloodlust; none of that makes you a monster.”

“Those voices are the ones that want to make you a monster,” she was rubbing her thumb over her knuckles comfortingly. “But you stopped them.”

“Barely,” she countered.

“You stopped them,” Mary repeated. “And we’re going to find a way to stop them for good, but when that’s all over you’re still going to be you, all of you, new parts and all.”

“And it’s none of that stuff that does or doesn’t make you a monster,” she continued. “It’s what you do with it.”

“And I see you, I know you,” she finished. “You could never be a monster.”

“Okay,” when Mary said it she really could believe it.

“Now get some sleep baby girl,” Mary said loosening her grip so she could turn back around. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

She fell into a comfortable sleep for an indeterminate amount of time. When she woke up Mary was no longer laying beside her and she briefly panicked.

“It’s alright baby girl, I’m right here,” Mary was standing over a basin of water.

“What are you doing,” she asked.

“Taking care of your hair problem, at least that’s something I know how to fix right now,” she said holding up a box of hair dye.

She’d be lying if she said Mary having her hands in her hair in almost any capacity wasn’t something she found very appealing. She moved to get up.

“All that stuff they said, about the group, about us,” Mary said as she began her ministrations. “You know it was all bullshit right.”

“Yeah,” she tried to sound confident.

“It was,” Mary left no room for questioning. “You scared those girls today but they were still more worried about you than anything.”

“And I,” she hesitated. “Well I’ve never much been one for out and out declarations but I care about you a lot Lilith, okay.”

“Okay,” it was all she could say.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed before Mary declared her work done. Lilith didn’t care, it had been bliss the whole way through. And when she looked in the mirror and finally saw something resembling her natural color again she couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you,” she leaned up to kiss her. “I love it.”

“Anything for you baby girl,” Mary hesitated at first but then returned the kiss eagerly.

“Now what was that you said about me having my way with you,” she said with a smirk.

“All you have to do is ask,” she replied with a smirk of her own. “Sister Mary.”

That elicited a growl, “Consider this me asking.”

The back of her knees were hitting the edge of the bed before she could even manifest a reply.


End file.
